


Doggone It

by bearfeathers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs, Veterans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2129208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearfeathers/pseuds/bearfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve are new to the area, but when their dog seems to be sick, they end up at The SHIELD Animal Hospital & Shelter. They'd expected a fresh start when moving out of the city, but they wind up finding something they didn't know they were looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doggone It

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the idea goes to [tawg](http://tawghasa.tumblr.com), who left this lovey little scenario in my inbox on tumblr.

Phil Coulson is happy with his life.

He’s happy with his veterinary practice. He’s happy with the team he has working for him. He’s happy with the no-kill shelter they’d been able to establish in years past. He’s happy with how many lives they’ve saved or changed since they’d opened their doors. He’s happy with how his life has turned around, compared to how it had first begun. He’s happy with his small home and his small menagerie of adopted animals.

He enjoys his visits from Jasper and Clint, their local animal control officers, because so often it means the chance to reunite a lost animal with their family or to rehabilitate a stray and find them a loving home. He enjoys employing specialists like Melinda, Felix and Grant, because it means that no animal need be turned away from their doorstep. There’s Jemma and Leo, his lab techs, and their receptionist/technical wizard/aspiring vet, Skye. And he’s glad for all of them, this little family they’ve put together.

But as happy with all of this as he is, he can’t help but feel lonely.

A large part of it has to do with his work, as he’s as married to the job as anyone can be. It’s not especially fair to put the job first and romantic partners second. After so many failed relationships, he’s primarily given up on the idea of finding anyone to settle down with.

So he contents himself with his work and the good that they do and he tells himself it’s enough.

One day, though, this abruptly changes.

* * *

“Hey, DC, we have a patient waiting for you in room three,” Skye says holding out a clipboard for him.

Phil hums and accepts the clipboard, flipping through the paperwork. “New patient?”

“Yeah,” Skye says. “Smokin’ hot new patients.”

Phil turns a stern eye on her, but she shrugs it off, as she always does. “What? A girl can look.”

“I’d prefer if you’d go look at the dogs in the kennel instead,” Phil says. “Aren’t they due to be walked?”

“Already on it,” Skye calls over her shoulder, walking down the hall.

He shakes his head, unable to keep a smile off his face as he proceeds to room three. He catches a glimpse of them through the door’s window and is embarrassed to find that Skye hadn’t exactly been wrong. There are two men sitting inside the room, both well-built with a military bearing and painfully attractive. But that’s not what Phil’s here for; he’s here for the Samoyed Shepherd Mix they’re petting on the examination table.

Taking a moment to readjust his tie, he opens the door and offers them a practiced, welcoming smile. They stand up immediately—and oh yes, definitely military—the moment he steps into the room.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Wilson?” he says, fishing for which one is which.

“Steve Rogers,” says the blond, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Sam Wilson,” Says the other, grinning as he does the same.

“Phil Coulson, pleasure to meet both of you. And this must be Lucy,” he says. He reaches out to pat the dog on the head, smiling when he gets an enthusiastic tail wag. Setting the clipboard down on the counter, he pulls out a pair of gloves and snaps them on before looking to the two men standing across from him. “Why don’t you tell me what’s brought you in today?”

“Well, Lucy’s been behaving a little out of the ordinary,” Sam says. “You know, normally, she’ll bring her food bowl to you, but recently chow time doesn’t seem all that interesting to her.”

“Mm. Any vomiting?” Phil asks, preparing the thermometer.

“A couple of times,” Steve says. “She’s been pretty lethargic, too.”

Phil nods, taking her temperature and making a mental note of the results. He moves on to gently palpitating her abdomen as the two men look on with barely concealed anxiety.

“The file says your regular veterinarian is in New York,” Phil says conversationally.

“Was, anyway. We just moved here a few weeks back,” Sam says. “It’s less…”

He and Steve make eye contact while he searches for a word. Phil doesn’t miss the way Sam’s hand migrates to the other man’s back.

“…noisy,” Sam decides.

“Not that it’s my business to pry, but is Lucy by any chance a service dog of some sort?” Phil asks.

Steve offers him a smile that looks a great deal more forced than the one he’d received earlier. “She’s an emotional support dog. I did a couple tours in Afghanistan, so did Sam. My therapist thought she might help with the PTSD.”

Phil nods his head understandingly.

“If you’re not aware, there’s a great support group for veterans in the area,” he mentions. “A friend of mine, James Rhodes, runs it. If you’d like, I could give you his contact information.”

“I used to run the one back in New York,” Sam says with a pleased smile. “I’ve been meaning to look into what kind of programs you have around here, so I’d appreciate the info.”

“I’ll make sure to write it down for you both before you leave today,” Phil declares, straightening and pulling his gloves off with a snap. “In the meantime, how do you two feel about puppies?”

“Puppies?” Steve echoes, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“Wait, wait,” Sam says, waving a hand to clear the air. “Are you telling me we’re going to be granddaddies?”

“In so many words,” Phil says with a chuckle.

“We didn’t plan on it,” Steve admits, “but now that we’ve got the space and I’m looking for work again, I guess… well, I guess we’ll be granddaddies.”

Sam nearly squeals with delight, kissing Steve on the cheek before wrapping his arms around Lucy’s neck and pressing kiss after kiss to her muzzle. The fluffy white dog seems to drink in the attention, tail wagging merrily as they resume their conversation.

“I’m going to go ahead and guess that you don’t know who the stud is?” Phil ventures.

“I’ve got two good guesses,” Sam says with a smirk.

“Sam, come on,” Steve says, jostling him playfully.

“Stud is the term we use for the father of the puppies,” Phil says, unable to help his smile at their antics. “If you’re unsure of who the stud is, we can run some prenatal tests to ensure Lucy will have a healthy pregnancy.”

“Whatever you think is best, then that’s what we’re going to do,” Steve says resolutely. “And since it seems we’ll be seeing you again, we’ve been wondering who should be her primary veterinarian. We’re pretty impressed with the facilities and your staff. Do you suppose we might be able to…?”

“I’d be happy to take Lucy on as a patient,” Phil says.

The rest of the exam goes smoothly and Phil finds himself enjoying their conversation. Most pet parents are easy to talk to, but something about Sam and Steve makes the conversation flow in a way he isn’t used to when dealing with clients and patients. By the end of it, he’s almost sad to see them go. They convene by the front desk as Skye finishes logging them into the system.

“Now, I’ve got a write-up of everything we’ve done for Lucy today as well as what to expect during her pregnancy. There’s a list here of several brands of dog food I would recommend for the duration. The nausea, lethargy and lack of appetite should resolve themselves, but for the next three to four days, feed her several small meals to make it easier on her stomach,” Phil instructs.

He hands them a folder, which Steve accepts, flipping it open to look it over immediately.

“I’ve also included contact information for James Rhodes as well as my personal number,” Phil continues. “If you have any questions—after hours, on weekends, holidays—I can be reached any time.”

“Thank you,” Sam says, his tone warm and honest. “We appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem,” Phil answers, just as warmly. “We’re just happy to help.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I noticed you haven’t included a bill here,” Steve says, frowning down at the paperwork.

“Oh, right. I probably should have mentioned,” Phil says, shaking his head. “SHIELD doesn’t charge veterans.”

Sam and Steve share a look once again, obviously confused by this proclamation.

“That’s very generous, but we can’t—“

“We’re sponsored by a very generous benefactor. A friend of Colonel Rhodes, in fact,” Phil explains. “Veterans and those unable to afford the care their pets need are not charged.”

“I’m just not sure I’m comfortable accepting that,” Steve admits, looking touched but unwilling to budge.

Phil makes a thoughtful noise and folds his arms across his chest. “Could I make a proposition? You mentioned you were looking for work again; have you found anything?”

“Not just yet, no,” Steve replies.

“We’re always looking for more help here,” Phil says. “You may have noticed we have a lot of animals to care for.”

At that moment Clint and Jasper come in through the main entrance, leading a large black dog on a leash. Phil can’t help but laugh at their timely arrival and gestures to them.

“And we’re always getting more. If you’re really that uncomfortable with not paying, you can always volunteer your time here to work it off,” Phil suggests. “When that’s finished, if you find you like the work, we’d be happy to employ you on either a full or part-time basis, depending on what suits you.”

 “Deal,” Steve says immediately.

Sam snorts in a mixture of laughter and surprise. “I guess that solves a couple of our problems. Thanks, Dr. Coulson.”

“Just Phil, please,” Phil says with a nod of his head. He looks to Steve. “You can come by whenever you’d like. We open at eight in the morning and we close at eight at night; anytime between then, you’re more than welcome. And Lucy, too.”

“Then I’ll see you at eight sharp,” Steve says.

The three of them shake hands before the two men depart, Lucy trotting along happily beside them. She pauses to try and get over to the black dog Jasper and Clint had brought in, before Steve gives her lead a little tug and she follows them out the door, leaving the black dog whining after her. Jasper watches the two men leave before looking to Phil with a low whistle.

“’Just Phil,’ huh?” he echoes with a grin.

“Don’t get any ideas, they’re already together,” Phil says, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, clearly you didn’t we what we saw,” Skye says. “Because they were checking you out.”

“I think you need an eye exam,” Phil says with a shake of his head, he kneels down to pet the black dog the two officers had brought in. “Who’s this?”

“Name’s Bandit. His owner passed away, no one around to take him in, figured you wouldn’t mind,” Clint says.

“Not at all. How’s Lucky?” Phil asks.

“Still stealing pizza when I’m not looking,” Clint says. “But seriously, Phil, those two guys gave you more than just a once over.”

“You three need a hobby,” Phil sighs.

“Sir, I was just looking over the next week’s lab—oh. Um, hello, Officer Barton,” Jemma says as she walks in. She colors as she addresses Jasper. “Officer Sitwell. Sir.”

“Nice to see you out of the lab,” Jasper says, throwing a grin her way. “And how many times do I have to ask you to call me Jasper?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Jemma babbles nervously. “I always seem to forget. Ehm… I see you’ve brought us a new resident.”

Skye is grinning like a Cheshire Cat as Jasper leans against the counter to chat with Jemma. It’s something of a running joke in the clinic—Jasper will flirt and Jemma has had a crush on him for months, but they seem to constantly toe the line without ever crossing it. The betting pool for who will ask the other out is starting to get a little ridiculous.

While they’re preoccupied, Phil and Clint head to one of the exam rooms to get him checked out before settling him in with Grant. The community surrounding SHIELD doesn’t operate under the most conventional of lifestyles at times, but if you ask any of them, you’re not liable to find they’d choose anything different.

* * *

“So Phil seems nice,” Sam says as they settle onto the sofa.

“Yeah, he does,” Steve agrees, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pauses, hesitating with what he wants to say. “Thank you, for agreeing to this. I know it wasn’t easy to pack up and leave the city, the support group, any of it.”

“Hey, don’t pull that guilty tone with me,” Sam chastises him. At the hard, angry set of Steve’s jaw, he leans in and kisses his partner on the cheek. “It takes time, alright?”

“I know, I’m just sick of feeling this way,” Steve says with a sigh. “I just want to go back to being normal, to having a normal relationship.”

“And you will. But it’ll take _time_ ,” Sam says, elbowing him in the side. “Now, wipe that look off your face and help me start picking out baby names.”

Steve can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

“Hell yes I’m really getting into it. We’re having _puppies_ ,” Sam says, his tone implying it had been ridiculous for Steve to even ask.

“I’ll fire up the laptop and we can start Googling,” Steve says, patting Sam’s thigh as he rises to retrieve the laptop. “Hey, you don’t think we made him uncomfortable today, do you?”

“Huh?” Sam calls, flicking the TV on.

“Phil, I mean. I’m not saying anything one way or another, but this isn’t the big city,” Steve points out. “I just don’t know if people around here are the tolerant sort or what.”

“Oh, he didn’t mind,” Sam says with a smirk.

Steve regards him curiously as he takes a seat, Lucy jumping up to settle between them on the couch. “What’s with that look?”

Sam studies him for a moment. “What, you didn’t notice?”

“Notice what?” Steve asks.

“Ah, nothin’. Forget it, I was just imagining things,” Sam says with a shrug, still smiling. “What about Snowball?”

Steve knows Sam is trying to distract him and he’s willing to play along with it for now, but if the other man thinks he’s going to forget this conversation, he’s got another thing coming. If Sam wants to play his cards close to his chest, that’s fine, but Steve intends to get to the bottom of it eventually.

“Isn’t Snowball kind of overused?” he asks.

“If these puppies come out as little white fluff balls, one of them is getting named Snowball,” Sam says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“As long as we can name one Winnie,” Steve says.

“What is it with you and old lady names?” Sam says with a laugh.

“They’re classic,” Steve says defensively.

They spend most of the rest of the night lobbing names around until they’re forced to call it quits and head to bed. Lying curled up with Sam and Lucy, Steve considers how lucky he is. Everything they’d known had been in the city and without question, Sam had packed everything up and moved out here because it was the best thing for Steve. The pilot tells him again and again not to feel guilty, that he’d done it because he loves him, but it’s hard _not_ to feel guilty. It’s hard when he considers that he hasn’t been able to work, that he’s been an emotional wreck that’s unstable at the best of times. He’s doing better, of course, and even a few short weeks after having moved out here, he sees some improvement. He can only hope that they continue in that direction.

They’d moved into town weeks ago, but somehow tomorrow feels like it’s the fresh start they’ve been looking for. Hoping for a dreamless sleep, Steve wraps his arm tighter around Sam’s waist and tells himself that tomorrow is the start of something new.


End file.
